Moments
by Paradox Predator
Summary: Moments with the Doctor and the TARDIS. My first fan-fic. Now other one-shots, poems and short arcs will be posted here too.
1. TARDIS

Something old.

Something new.

Something borrowed.

And the blue-est blue.

...

The old man and his grand-daughter wandered down the streets of the old city, looking for something. An escape. An adventure. Of all his relatives, his grand-daughter was the only one remotely like him, and even she was much less adventurous and more interested in rules and regulations than in running away to see the grand unknown.

"Grandfather," she said, "where exactly are we going?"

"To the Black Hole Shipyard, my dear," said the old man with young eyes. "I think it's time I had my TARDIS."

His grand-daughter, Arkytior, was a very intelligent young girl. A bit on the strict side, but somehow, in hundreds of years of Time Lord history, she had been the first one to realize that the first letters of the phrase 'Time and Relative Dimension in Space' formed the acronym 'TARDIS'. Remarkable.

"But Grandfather!" she protested. "That's stealing!"

"Oh, come, come, my dear girl. It's not stealing if the timeship is about to be decommissioned, hm?" the Doctor asked. "Why, it's about to be destroyed! Think about it as _saving _the thing. Come on now, let's move on."

...

Two TARDISes that wanted to leave. Sitting with their doors open. But one had a friend. The last Type 40 in the universe was about to leave on another adventure.

...

The ancient young man tried door after door. All locked. Arkytior was at the gates of the shipyard, watching in case anyone came. Aha! An unlocked door! The Doctor pushed it open and stepped inside.

"Arkytior, my dear! Come see what your old Grandfather has found for you!" he called.

"What is it?" came the reply. The girl ran inside and stopped short. Surprised. "Oh, it's only an old TT Type 30. They should have been retired ages ago." The disappointment in her voice was evident as she turned away.

"Oh, come now, my girl. There are worse ships," the Doctor said. Arkytior opened her mouth to retort and was interrupted.

"Doctor?" came a voice from outside the Type 30. The two Time Lords stepped out of the ship and were confronted by a young Chancellery Guard. The Impossible, she called herself. A friend of Arkytior's.

"Yes, my dear?" the Doctor asked, uneasily eyeing the staser pistol by the girl's side.

"What you are about to do, Doctor. You are making a terrible mistake."

He started to retort, but was shocked by her next words.

"Take this one, instead. The navigation system's much more fun. Off you pop."

Stunned, the old man stuttered his thanks and then entered the ship. Inside, it was nothing like the Type 30, which had been all sweeping staircases and grand halls. It was a simple, serviceable white room with a hexagonal console in the middle. The Doctor drew in a breath.

"Oh," was all he could manage for a long while. He stroked the gray console and the TARDIS thrummed in reply. "Oh my," he finally managed. "Why, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Arkytior, we'll take this one."

"Yes, Grandfather." she said. "Where are going?"

"Where?" the young man asked with a twinkle in his eye, "Anywhere we like! Next stop: Everywhere!"


	2. Schismatic

Schismatic

...

The initiate stood before the High Council of the Time Lords as they gazed upon him. Was he worthy to become a member of the Ancient Order of the Chronarchs? The President looked to the Chancellors, Cardinals and Castellans of the Council and nodded. The Council extended their arms as one. Some held their arms out with the thumb pointing up, signifying that they deemed the initiate worthy. Others held their hands with the thumb pointing down, indicating the negative.

A count was taken; the majority was in favor of the initiate being ordained. He was led to a small room behind the Council Chambers and given a simple black and white surplice to wear.

"This is the robe of a Time Lord," he was told. "The simple black and white signifies that we are not separated by Chapter, or House. We are united as one. We stand strong. Are you ready?"

The initiate nodded, pulling on the robe. He had wanted this for eight years. Ever since he was loomed, he had wanted only one thing: to be a Time Lord.

"Then follow," the Castellan said. The initiate was led out of the Council Chambers, out of the Panopticon, through fields of red grass and into a cave in the side of Mount Solitude. Deep in the cave laid the Cold Vaults of Rassilon, home to the Untempered Schism. The initiate was placed before the Mirror holding the Schism.

"Do you, initiate, take the Oath of a Time Lord?" he was asked. What choice did he have? He answered.

"I swear to protect the ancient Law of Gallifrey with all my might and brain. I will to the end of my days, with justice and with honor temper my actions and my thoughts," he said, proud that he had not forgotten a single word.

"This is the Oath of a Time Lord," the Castellan said, "and it is for all of us to take to hearts. Now Koschei, do you gaze into the Untempered Schism, to see all that was, all that is, and all that could ever be?"

"I do," Koschei said, stepping forward. What would the lad see? Would he be inspired, run away, or go mad? Surely the eager, intelligent boy would be inspired.

"Then gaze into the Schism," the Castellan said, as he turned towards the Mirror. Touching his staff to the Seal of Rassilon set in the base. The White Point Star in the staff's head vibrated against the Seal, releasing artron energy that resonated through the Vortex itself. The Mirror's surface swirled, shook and was sucked away in a whirlpool of pure Time energy.

Koschei walked forward and stared into the Vortex, looking directly into raw, uninhibited power. He saw the future there.

…

"I am generally known as the Master," said the man with the beard and the velvet suit. "Universally."

…

"Plodding jackanapes!" he was called by his enemy.

…

"At least now I can say I was provoked!" the older man grunted, brandishing a sparking cable at a frightened girl holding a gun she barely knew how to use.

…

"Pure evil," were the words of another Time Lord.

…

"I always like to dress for the occasion!" exclaimed the man with the harsh voice and the cat's eyes, as he displayed his robes.

…

"Crimes without number and villainy without end!" was the exclamation of his own teacher.

…

"And how did that feel, to see to almighty civilizations burning?" asked the one with short hair and a laser screwdriver. "You must have been like God..."

…

"Our most infamous child," snarled Rassilon himself.

…

"Destitute was I?" hissed the insane, blond one with sparks firing from his hands. "Alone and dying? Well look at me now!"

…

Voices echoed in Koschei's head. He tried to look away but they were too strong.

"Die, Doctor!" one voice snarled.

"Never dying! Never dying, never dying!" Another voice chanted. The noises swirled into a cacophony of Koschei's horrific future. Shrieking out with all the evil he would do.

Then, above the thunderous pandemonium of the other noises, came yet another noise. A horrible noise. A beat of four.

_"Dudududun. Dudududun. Dudududun," _it beat, wiping away the other sounds and becoming the only noise left in the poor boy's head. Koschei felt a hand on his shoulder and looked away from the Schism.

Then he forgot.

He could not remember what he had seen. It was important. He knew it was important! Why couldn't he remember?

"Do you wish to claim a title, young Time Lord?" said the voice of the Castellan. Koschei closed his eyes and listened to the noise of the still-beating drums. It would fade with time, he reassured himself. At the moment he had more important things to think about.

_Time Lord._ He liked the sound of that. Maybe he could play off that theme… He looked up at the Castellan and grinned.

"From now on," Koschei said, "I shall be known as the _Master."_ Smiling oddly, the Master bowed to the assembly, turned, and left the Vaults.

He couldn't wait until tomorrow, to find out if Thete would choose a title.

"_Onetwothreefour."_

_..._

**Me: So, sorry that I haven't posted anything here. The Rani hasn't let me.**

**Rani: You won't write a one-shot about me!**

**Me: That's because you hate everyone! You even hate CHILDREN!**

**Rani: Whatever...**

**Disclaimer: If I did own Doctor Who, what in the Vortex would I be doing writing fan-fiction?**


End file.
